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<title>you tried to be someone you are not (he did some things that you forgot) by no_second_chances</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30132564">you tried to be someone you are not (he did some things that you forgot)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/no_second_chances/pseuds/no_second_chances'>no_second_chances</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>a ballad bathed in crimson dye [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Lost in Translation (Webcomic)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Graphic Description, Grooming, Mental/Emotional Agony, Past Sexual Assault, Self-Harm, this is really dark im sorry um</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 16:40:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>388</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30132564</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/no_second_chances/pseuds/no_second_chances</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"i hear you tell me lightly<br/>you were quite a mess<br/>but i worship you no less this way"</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>a ballad bathed in crimson dye [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2150487</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>you tried to be someone you are not (he did some things that you forgot)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>trigger warning: yikes</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>relapse was normal.</p><p> </p><p>relapse was <em>normal</em>.</p><p> </p><p>but-</p><p> </p><p>jaewon wasn't a normal person, was he?</p><p> </p><p>he was an idol.</p><p> </p><p>he was an <em>idol</em>, and he was an <em>image</em>, and he was an <em>object</em>. he wasn't his own person- and barely even deserved the title of one.</p><p> </p><p>he was nothing more than something to be marketed, and he didn't own his body. that was something he's known for quite some time, even before getting put under the media's scrutiny.</p><p> </p><p>he found the cruelty of the world in not the spotlight of the masses, but in someone he trusted. someone he was vulnerable with. someone he might have even loved.</p><p> </p><p>jaewon found cruelty under strong hands, calloused with age, that trailed along his body that was much too young. </p><p> </p><p>the touches felt loving, felt tender, at the time, but now he cannot think of them without digust and shame coiling tightly in his stomach.</p><p> </p><p>he was so young-</p><p> </p><p>he was <em>so young. </em></p><p> </p><p>it wasn't fair, but alas.</p><p> </p><p>the world wasn't fair. </p><p> </p><p>he was an idol, but before he was an idol, he was a child.</p><p> </p><p>he was a child, and his body didn't belong to him then, either. it was taken by someone who should have known better, who had more power, who-</p><p> </p><p>who jaewon had trusted. </p><p> </p><p>he had trusted him, and he cursed himself like a fool, even if it was in poor taste. he was innocent, unknowing, perhaps even uncaring that he was only 13. </p><p> </p><p>but 13 year old jaewon still plagued 25 year old jaewon's nightmares and waking thoughts.</p><p> </p><p>he did not own his body, but the cool drag of the blade made it seem a little less so.</p><p> </p><p>made the frustration, the anger, the betrayal, the burning <em>agony</em> seem a little more bearable.</p><p> </p><p>as he tore apart flesh, as bright crimson welled and dripped down porcelain skin, he felt more control. he was the one marking himself, not <em>him</em>, not <em>them-</em></p><p> </p><p>him. </p><p> </p><p>his hips, the ones who had phantom handprints on them, no longer etched into the flesh, were untouched by the media. he did not put them on display.</p><p> </p><p>he could regain control there, a serrated edge reclaiming himself.</p><p> </p><p>he would be able to fix one small bit, no matter how small, and have something that belonged to him-</p><p> </p><p>because god knows he desperately needed it. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>title from "when you wash your hair" by matt maltese</p></blockquote></div></div>
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